Charles Bradley: Pucks, Pets and CAN-AM Camaraderie, Part II

Continued from Part I

Charles Bradley, black and blue thumbnail and all, is back in business and back in the game. At the Dunkin’ Donuts in West Concord, he’s his same old amiable self as he sits at the table next to my wife and me. Caring to the core about pets and humans like me, Charles listens to my wife describe my ongoing injury saga and makes a suggestion or two from his own experience as a hockey player and animal doctor. (You’ve probably seen the bumper sticker, “Be kind to animals. Hug a hockey player.” Right?)

Stop by Domino Veterinary Hospital (DVH), Charlie says; I’ll give you a brochure for the doctor that fixed my wrist.

He stands up to get in line for his coffee as my wife and I prepare to leave.

We run an errand and then meet Charlie at DVH in West Concord.

Paint greets our nostrils as a contractor applies color to the door leading to the reception area. We shuffle to the right and see Dr. Bradley.

Charlie rises from his chair in a side office and then leads us on an impromptu tour of the new facility. We walk from room to room, Charlie showing us machines for examining and treating dogs and cats.

If I were a patient or pet owner, I’d like the soothing, soft colors—including sage and beige—of the treatment and special procedure rooms and pharmacy that serve customers in Concord, Sudbury, Maynard and beyond. The place is bright and cheery. Just like Charlie.

He’s not about to apply for sainthood and is the first to admit the adversity he has endured in the aforesaid changing veterinary market. He left the profession, and the AMHL, a few years ago to dabble in the home renovation business, but that endeavor proved unsuccessful.

We move on, chatting about Charlie's drives through Vermont to Canada and listening to CBC Radio. Charlie asks if my wife and I are familiar with Stuart McLean. 

Of course. 

We agree that the Canadian storyteller-comic (born and raised in Montreal West, a few blocks away from Charlie’s Loyola High School) and McLean's The Vinyl Cafe program are akin to Garrison Keiller’s A Prairie Home Companion. (Dave and Morley, often featured on McLean's hour-long variety show, own a dog, Arthur.)

We reach the front lobby and discuss the nuances of Canadian parlance.

“He says ‘eh’ a lot less than he used to,” Dr. Bradley's assistant, sitting behind the new desk in these new veterinary digs, says.

But it’s not all about the “eh;” it’s also about the A, as in Yahoo!, Mazda and pasta. YEAH-who, MAZZ-duh, PASS-tuh, right?

“Right,” Charlie says, smiling about a Canadian’s propensity to end a sentence with an affirmative interrogative.

We change topics from linguistics to cross-border cooperation to Can-Am adventures and camaraderie, and ultimately circle back to hockey.

Are you over the devastation, my wife wonders, of the Canadiens losing in the first round? She’s not aware that Charlie told me ten years ago that he’s a Bruins fan.

“I made the conversion,” he says.

In an amped-up professional hockey environment where the lines between rivalry and rage often blur and can block us from seeing the beauty of our game, Charlie Bradley sticks out like a sore thumbnail.

“You call him Charlie?” his assistant asks.

“They’ve seen each other in garter belts,” my wife says.

Charlie explains that we hockey players assign pet names (my pun, not his) to each other, adding an –ie or –y to our first names. “Charlie, Jimmy…,” he says.

I can call him Charlie. And if I had a sick dog or cat, I’d call Dr. Bradley.

Charles Bradley: Pucks, Pets and CAN-AM Camaraderie, Part I

May 11, 2013

Saturday morning

West Concord, MA

The AMHL Photographer and I sit at our usual table at Dunkin’ Donuts, discussing an upcoming doctor appointment to address my Humpty Dumpty Groin.

She notices a familiar face entering the place, and I look left to watch Charles Bradley, an AMHLer, a veterinarian and one fine Canadian, approach. Wearing a solid bold blue short-sleeved shirt and smiling, he extends his right hand to meet mine.

Half of his left thumbnail is black and blue. Looks like a hockey injury to me. Charlie raises his hands, like a begging beagle, to reenact his awkward attempt to block a shot during a 3–1 loss on Tuesday morning. He laughs at himself.

Despite his Avalanche losing to the Leafs and his bruised lunula, Charlie seems happy, like the same fellow I got to know ten years ago, when he shared his hockey (and donut) story with me.

I asked him on that Tuesday morning in March, 2003, “Given your preference, Tim Hortons or Dunkin’ Donuts?”

Just then someone opened the fire escape door, not because of an emergency but because the door was closer to his car. This triggered a fire alarm bell.

“Tim Hortons,” Charlie said.

Tim Hortons, I say, OK.

“Definitely.”

I had a feeling, but there was a pause

“Because of the bell,” he says.

I switch from donuts to hockey and learn that Charlie was born and raised in Montreal (pronounced MUN–tree–all) and started playing hockey when he was four or five years old. 

“Our grade school was in Loyola Park, and we had four hockey rinks and one skating rink right behind us. The City maintained it.” Charlie said. “And in those days (1960s), we didn’t have really artificial ice, except for the (Verdun Auditorium) and Montreal Forum. Well, we played hockey every day; we played because the rinks were maintained by the City.”

These were outdoor rinks?

Charlie said, “Outdoor ice, yeah. And the guys would come out, the municipal workers would come out and flood every night. They were illuminated, and we could play all the time unless there was a thaw. It was great. That’s where we learned our skills.”

As we chat after his Tuesday morning game, comedian and AMHL mainstay Chris Howell interrupts us. “I just want to say that Charles Bradley is probably the biggest liar I’ve ever met.”

“Thanks a lot, Donut Boy,” Charlie replied, enjoying the friendly exchange.

After Donut Boy exited, I asked Bradley if he had aspirations of playing junior hockey.

Loyola High School, he said. "Pretty high-level hockey.”

The Jesuit-run school, created for English-speaking Catholics in the Côte-Des-Neiges—Notre-Dame-De-Grâce neighborhood of Montreal, resides on Rue Sherbrooke and is contained by Concordia University, a few blocks west of Parc Loyola.

Charlie wore the school’s maroon and white sweater.

“We did tournaments, and we were usually the champions or near the top in the Montreal league,” he said as the Zamboni did its thing around the Valley Sports rink. “And we had our rink, so that helped a lot. We skated every day. We skated probably about seven to ten hours a week. It was good for skills as well.”

After high school, though, hockey took a back seat to professional studies. He graduated from The University of Guelph Ontario Veterinary College and then worked at dozens of practices in the next almost twenty years, travelling from Ontario to New Hampshire and Massachusetts.

He found his way back to hockey, though. In 2000 or 2001, Charlie says that after learning of the AMHL at a Valley Sports Stick Time session on a Friday afternoon, he registered to play.

“I was really surprised at the level of hockey,” he said. “This is a nice league because, the difference to me, other than the time, is that everyone plays hockey for the fun of it. They don’t take it too seriously. That was a real put-off for me when guys were getting really really serious, competitive, and angry at each other, smashing each other and holding grudges. We don’t see that in this league. And the idea of rotating the teams through is really good. Having the time after for the CAM-uh-rah-duh-rie and fellowship, that makes it really good.”

But financial struggles—tough to earn find stability in a veterinary market where clinic ownership can change hands— took him away from his passions: taking care of cats and dogs and playing hockey. He dabbled in local home renovation, but that endeavor never took off. He and his family decided to move to Ontario in 2009.

Upon learning of the move across the 49^th Parallel, AMHLers expressed their respect for Charlie by email.

“On behalf of all the AMHL officials, we would like to extend our best wishes to Charlie and his family as they go back to the mother country. Bradley was a great competitor and statesman from Canada and will be missed,” wrote Referee Peter Bagley.

Terry Loebs: “I will remember Charles Bradley as the most accomplished backchecking defenseman in AMHL history, and the all-time leader in evoking the same question ("Is that guy playing 'D' or forward?") among AMHL newbies. Good luck, Charles (eh?)”

Mike Schneider wrote, “Nicest guy off the ice. On the ice? Tenacious, quick, strong. A beast on defense. The kind of guy you fear going towards or fear may be on your heels. If you beat Charles, you know you played your best.”

Now, Bradley is back in business and back in the game. At the Dunkin’ Donuts in West Concord, he’s his same old amiable self as he sits at the table next to my wife and me. Caring to the core about pets and humans alike, Charles Bradley listens to my wife describe my ongoing injury saga and makes a suggestion or two from his own experience as a hockey player and animal doctor. (You’ve probably seen the bumper sticker, “Be kind to animals. Hug a hockey player.” Right?)

Stop by Domino Veterinary Hospital (DVH), Charlie says, I’ll give you a brochure for the doctor that fixed my wrist.

He stands up to get in line for his coffee as my wife and I prepare to leave. 

(To be continued)

On the Shelf, Part VIII: Good Stuff

Image courtesy of Joe Fletcher

The saga of my mysterious upper lower-body/middle lower-body injury continues. Physical therapy didn’t do the trick, so it’s back to the doctor for a re-evaluation tomorrow. It’s a downer not playing—and worse, the not knowing what’s wrong or when I’ll be back—but Don Cherry’s Hockey Stories and Stuff has been a pick-me-up difficult to put down.

If Gordie Howe, who will turn 81 on March 31, is Mr. Hockey®, then Don Cherry, who celebrated his 75th birthday on Thursday, is Mr. Hockey Storyteller. In his book, as told to Al Strachan, “Grapes” delivers page after page of vintage vignettes, which he draws from his vast experience as a player, coach, and commentator.

Cherry’s down-to-earth delivery transported me to wherever he ventured: on the ice, on the road, and into the announcer booth. I had figured he’d include stuff about the Bruins; that he’d share nuggets about my beloved Colorado Rockies; and that he’d take me behind the scenes of Hockey Night in Canada. Cherry didn’t disappoint.

With his trademark brashness, that blunt-force honesty—that which people tend to love or loathe—Cherry sometimes made me wince. But more often than not, I either laughed (picture this: Wayne Gretzky in long—presumably—underwear) or felt a fondness for the flashy haberdasher’s delight. Cherry admits his mistakes and becomes vulnerable. This softer side shushes his insolence.

The most endearing anecdote, for me, was not about Bobby Orr or Barry Beck, but rather about his bull terrier. “Blue and I had a favourite song,” Cherry begins the tale.

I’ll let you discover for yourself what that song is and hope that you’ll find Cherry’s yarns as engaging as I did.

Thumbs up, Grapes. Good stuff.

Special Report: Energy on Ice

December 2, 2007

Raymond Bourque, Valeri Kamensky, and Igor Larionov: these names are engraved on the Stanley Cup that greets hockey fans here at The Edge Sports Center in Bedford, Massachusetts.

The talented triumvirate and a host of other prominent players are here tonight at the brand new arena to raise awareness for Hockey Fights Cancer, USA Hockey, Toys for Tots, and Colonel Daniel Marr Boys & Girls Foundation. The contingent of North American and Russian players is here to foster friendship and bolster business relationships, too. And they’re here because they still love to play hard; they still crave competition, especially when a Cup is on the line. Not that cherished chalice in the lobby but rather the AspenTech Cup.

Never heard of it? A little background while the standing-room-only crowd watches the Zamboni work its magic and the players put on their game faces.

Bourque will wear green and gold for Aspen Technology, a company that helps process manufacturers transform the way they design and run their operations. His teammates include former Bruins Don Sweeney, Ted Crowley and Marty McInnis; joining them are Bob Sweeney and Scott Young, who both once called Valley Sports Arena in nearby Concord their home ice. Also eager to play for the AspenTech All-Stars are Harvard’s Hobey Baker winners: Lane MacDonald and the Fusco brothers, Mark (now CEO at Aspen Technology) and Scott (now General Manager of The Edge Sports Arena) are hoping to do Harvard—and North America—proud.

Kamensky will sport a blue sweater with and edgy design for Gazprom Export, the world’s leading exporter of natural gas. His comrades include Sergei Starikov, Ravil Yakubov, and Maxim Mikhaylovskiy. All played in the NHL and/or in the minors as well as in their native Russia. Add to mix former Spartak players, such as head coach and defenseman Sergey Makarov and right wing Evgeny Chizhmin, who averaged just shy of a point per game last season with Team Gazprom.

And Larionov?

Team AspenTech acquired his rights when the stalwart center, born forty-seven years ago tomorrow, decided to work for Aspen Technology.

How does it feel to play for the Green and Gold?

“Feels good, actually,” Larionov says, smiling as he exits the locker room for the pre-game skate.

“At least give us someone who can pass,” jokes a new teammate.

Larionov, who won three Stanley Cups with the Detroit Red Wings and posted 475 career assists, is an adroit passer. But he’s not amused as the first period closes. The scoreboard shows :46.7 when Kamensky scores on former Rensselear Polytechnic Institute goalie Bobby Farrelly. (Yep, flick fans, the director of Dumb and Dumber, Fever Pitch, and The Heartbreak Kid is no ringer, but he’s no slouch either.) Kamensky’s wrist shot from the far circle is the only one to beat Number 00, and it prompts the sound system’s operator to play the Baha Men’s “Who Let the Dogs Out.”

Farrelly’s counterpart, Mikhaylovskiy, meanwhile, has closed the door on would-be scorers.

Referee Paul Stewart assesses the first period, “You can see the level of play, even with some rust. It’s important for kids to see how good these guys are…the prime thing is that they can all skate, shoot quick…the puck never gets tired.”

When Chizhmin scores on a two-on-one two minutes into the second period, Gazprom lengthens the lead to 2–0.

More music, this time a classical piece by John Williams.

“Hey, Star Wars!” a kid recognizes the score from a movie first released three decades ago.

AspenTech continues to battle, scoring at 6:59 to cut the deficit, but Igor Romashin counters for Gazprom. Bobby Carpenter scores on a wrist shot from the point but then Chizhimin scores on a penalty shot with less than two minutes remaining in the second period to stake Gazprom to a 4–2 lead.

“(Those) boys can move,” comments one fan to another between periods.

The third period provides the crowd more fervent action. Gazprom’s empty-net goal secures a 5–3 victory but also may bolster the AspenTech All-Stars’ commitment to practice more often; chances are they’ll face Team Gazprom here again next year.

“We hope that this will be an annual event,” Scott Fusco comments via e-mail. He adds, “I think Gazprom won because they play together three times per week and have an extensive game schedule together whereas we play probably once per week in separate pickup situations. This makes it tough to finish as we should.”

Even so, you can bet your last dollar (or ruble) on this: The next time they play, Bourque, Kamensky, Larionov, and company will provide fans lots of energy on ice.

AMHL Wednesday: Pets and Pucks

The Far Side: The sun is rising as a slender dog stands on a three-legged table so he can reach the espresso machine. Today's caption on our cartoon-a-day calendar reads, “While their owners sleep, nervous little dogs prepare for their day.”

Sunrise over Concord is a few minutes away as most AMHLers have left their families and pets to play hockey.

In the rink’s parking lot, a Rhodesian Ridgeback is sprawled about the back seat of John Field’s old blue Volvo. Inside the Valley Sports Arena, on Rink Two, Field and his Sharks prepare for their contest against Erik Domingo, who owns a dog named Brockton, and the Sabres.

On Rink One, the Rangers and Canadians have begun their game. AMHL Wednesday Co-director Hockey Operations Mike DeLeo waits for a whistle so he can step onto the ice. Mike says he has two Shelties: Brady, named for the Patriots’ QB and Schillie, for the Sox’s burly hurler.

While DeLeo’s doggies down the last drops of morning brew at the DeLeo household, Master Mike’s cohort, Jerry Evans oversees operations. Jerry, recovering from a separated shoulder, has two pets, too: a cat and a dog. Fritty is named after a cat Evans’s son had read, and “Lightning.” Evans says the dog “is part Border Collie, hound, and something yellow.” She’s also what Evans calls a “reverse blonde.” Lightning’s roots are light but the outer hair is dark.

“I’m gonna go home and walk the dog,” Jerry says midway through the first period, and we walk towards Rink Two.


On the far side of the back rink, the scoreboard shows the Sabres leading 5–0 early in the second period. Field is on the ice when his Sharks score, but the tally won’t be enough.

Out in the Volvo, the sun has risen but the droopy-faced dog lies about, missing its master—and its morning shot of caffeine.